Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise, its characters, its various unique locales, or anything related to it other than this story.
Nobody Messes With Irma Pince
"Sir! May I ask what you are doing in my library?" Ludo Bagman froze in place. He had hoped to sneak by relatively unnoticed, but alas. The best laid plans of mice and men, they say.
"Oh, good evening, Madame. I wasn't expecting anyone in the library at this hour," he finished with an uneasy chuckle. Her eyes narrowed in a manner that on anyone other than the librarian would have been a trifle intimidating. As it was, he was terrified.
"I wonder then, what brought you here." It was remarkable how even when whispering, Irma Pince's voice still had the ability to grate on the ears.
"Oh, you know how it is," he responded, struggling to come up with an excuse. He didn't think the no-nonsense woman would take kindly to discovering that he was hiding from a certain pair of twins to whom he owed money.
"No, Mr. Bagman, I do not. Enlighten me." He fidgeted nervously with a few spare sickles and lint in his pocket and looked about the room for some sort of inspiration. Luckily for him, his gaze fell upon a seemingly ancient copy of Hogwarts: A History. Why anyone would read the book was beyond him, but it did suggest an alibi that he was disappointed in himself for having not come up with earlier.
"I was just looking around, reminiscing you know," he replied as he ran his fingers along the shelves of the bookcases. "So many fond memories of this library, from my own time here, and—Ow!" He released a shout of pain as a splinter drove under the skin of his index finger. "Mother--"
"Mr. Bagman, I strongly suggest you refrain from finishing that sentiment." He blushed, but her lips, pursed tightly together, gave the impression that she was not so willing to laugh it off. "Sir, this is no laughing matter. You are currently trespassing in the restricted section of the library after hours with no invitation or permission having been issued. Your excuse is shoddy at best,"
"Come on, Madame Pince! I didn't mean anything by it! So maybe it's technically against the rules, but I'm a grown man, an alumni of this institution--"
"Alumnus," she corrected.
"What?"
"You are an alumnus. Alumni is plural. Alumnus is singular masculine, and therefore, would be the appropriate declension to use in this situation," she explained as if explaining simple addition to a child.
"Right," he continued uneasily. "So you think I'm masculine and singular? You know how to flatter a guy, Madame P." Sure he was laying the charm on thick, but at this point, he was running out of options. "So, as an alumnus, of the school I thought it might be alright for me to stop in and remember all the fond memories I've had in this library." If possible, Pince's eyebrows had furrowed even deeper than before, and her glare intensified.
"Mr. Bagman, do permit me to ask a question." Although her stern gaze was unaltered, her voice had softened somewhat, putting the rather frazzled gentleman a bit more at ease.
"Of course, Madame Pince," he replied in the most gracious manner he could muster.
"Do you believe that I am stupid?" His eyes widened in shock. This was not the way he wanted this conversation to go.
"No! No, ma'am, absolutely not. I'd never think such a--" she raised her hand to cut him off.
"Let me share something with you, Mr. Bagman. I have been working in this library for almost all my life. And most of my time here is occupied by reading. Now, it is therefore logical to conclude that I have spent most of my life reading. While some might think this is a waste of a good mind, let me remind you that while teachers may spend their lives imparting knowledge, I have spent my life absorbing it. The myth of the dim-witted librarian is the result of fallacious reasoning, but common enough that it is rather easy to forgive. So, I am thusly led to believe that if you believe you are capable of lying to me about something so ridiculous as your fond memories of this library, either you think I am stupid or you yourself are stupid. I must say I am leaning towards the latter." Bagman's jaw had dropped at this sudden outpouring, something he had never heard from the normally terse librarian. She just smirked at his dumb-founded expression.
"Mr. Bagman, I was librarian here when you were but a little first-year full of bravado determined to become famous. While you're quidditch accomplishments here at Hogwarts were quite notable, I'd like to remind you that your grades were subpar. You never set foot in this library your entire Hogwarts career, even though you almost got thrown off your team for not keeping up an A average in your classes. That you would have any memories at all here, is laughable." By the time, Madam Pince had finished her little diatribe, Bagman felt about two inches tall and could hardly come up with a response.
"Madame, I, I--" he stuttered. He tried to think of something, anything to say, but he was still far to shaken to come up with anything that made sense.
"Mr. Bagman, why don't we make a deal. I'm not in the mood to divine your purpose in entering my library at this hour, therefore, if you agree to never enter it again without the express permission of myself or a member of the faculty and go on your merry little way, I will forget this incident ever happened." He nodded furiously barely even able to articulate his relief. He knew logically that she wouldn't have been able to do anything too horrible to him for trespassing, but she was scary.
"Wonderful. I do believe there are portkeys in the Great Hall that have been made available for visitor use. I'd suggest you head in that direction." Bagman nodded again. He wasn't completely stupid. He knew leaving wasn't a suggestion, it was an order. He scrambled out of the library as quickly as possible leaving a smirking librarian in his wake.
Only seconds after the man's hasty exit, Madame Pince heard the thud of a book being knocked off a shelf. She sighed. "Boys, you are lucky that did not happen while he was here." Two red heads popped out from behind a bookshelf. Each had a guilty smile on his face.
"Thanks so much for your help, Madame P." Fred began. "He may be a slimy--"
"sleazy--"
"no-good cheat in real life--"
"but when he walks into the Great Hall--"
"he'll literally be--"
"a slimeball!" They finished their exchange together.
"One of our most satisfying pranks to date, wouldn't you say so, Forge?"
"Most indubitably, Gred."
The librarian allowed a small chuckle to escape before reigning it in. "Now, you boys know I don't endorse pranks in this school. However, Mr. Bagman has no official connection to the school, so I consider him outside my protection."
"Of course, Madame P."
"We're fine, upstanding gents, we are!"
A rather unladylike snort escaped, but she couldn't cover that up. Instead she returned to her usual business-like demeanor. "Now, I'm not doing this because I like you two. I expect my end of this little arrangement to be honored."
"Of course, Madame."
"We will be on our best behavior--"
"the very best--"
"saint-like really--"
"every time we enter the library."
"And?" she pressed further.
"And Hermione has agreed to only check out a maximum of 5 books at a time in the future," Fred finished with a roll of his eyes. Madame Pince only clapped her hands together gleefully.
"How wonderful! While I commend Miss Granger on her studious habits, this will make work so much easier for me! It was a pleasure doing business with you boys."
"You too, Madame P!" They shouted as they crossed towards the door.
"Oh, boys!" She called out. "One more thing. I didn't like Mr. Bagman's attitude. I would very much appreciate a picture of your handiwork, if one should happen to become available." The teens were a bit astonished at her poorly concealed glee at the idea of a pranked Ministry official, but hastily agreed. Later as they would take pictures of a slimy Ludo Bagman, they would reflect on the night's events. They had come to a realization they'd do well to remember—Irma Pince took no prisoners.
A/N: This is a response to FredFanatic's opposite challenge. I wrote Bagman a bit like Gilderoy Lockhart, because he clearly enjoys his fame and is not the best role model for the kiddies. I tried to make him not quite as over the top as Lockhart, though, so I hope I got a good fit.